


one day, i pray, i'll be more than my father's son

by starrydreams



Category: Six of Crows Series - Leigh Bardugo
Genre: ? - Freeform, Character Study, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Post-Crooked Kingdom, Reflection, theres just a lot, wylans thinking back on shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-15
Updated: 2018-10-15
Packaged: 2019-08-02 18:24:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16310372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starrydreams/pseuds/starrydreams
Summary: It was a few months after the auction and it was one of those restless nights. He snuck out of bed, long after Jesper had fallen asleep, and sat in the music room, playing his flute. He played until the melody that had been stuck in his head since Jesper closed his eyes that night solidified as a song with notes on paper. He slipped it in with his other sheet music, untitled, as he went into the garden. He grabbed his sketchbook on the way out the large glass doors that lead into his backyard, and settled down amongst the grass. He drew Jesper until his fingers were sore and his cheeks were so red he was worried that they might never go back to normal....A few months after the auction, Wylan decided it was time to reflect on a few things.





	one day, i pray, i'll be more than my father's son

**Author's Note:**

> "this will either be not even 1k or will be 2k and there will be no in-between" i said. "it wont be that long" i said  
> yeah well this ended up being almost 8.5k SO THERES THAT!  
> also thank u to my main man @kravalicious on tumblr (maricharde on here) for beta-ing this fic for me!!! i love them sm check out their shit  
> ANYWAY enjoy this mess

     There were certain nights where Wylan Van Eck just couldn’t seem to find it in him to fall asleep. He would carefully slip away from Jesper’s embrace (which sometimes was almost as impossible as breaking into the Ice Court, he had an impressive strength when cuddling) and find himself padding to the music room. He would quietly test out any melodies that came to mind as he sat at the piano, sometimes writing entire songs on a whim he had come up with in the moment. Some nights when he didn’t play the piano, he would carefully push himself to sit on the end of it and play lighthearted songs on his flute. The weight of it in his hands was always a comforting one; he loved playing it whenever he could, even if it spurred Jesper’s new affectionate nickname ‘songbird.’ He put up with it. Okay, maybe a little more than put up with it.

     He would eventually tire of playing and he would find something else to do to keep the busy thoughts stirring in his head at bay. He would grab a sketchbook and some artist pencils, or maybe a canvas and some paints, and he would set up camp in the garden. The grass would be a little wet from dew, and it would be dark out, but he didn’t mind the cold soaking through his pajama pants, and the dark could be easily dispelled with a nicely placed lantern. He would sketch, draw, paint anything that came to mind: his mom, Inej and her ship, Kaz, Nina in all her glory with her newfound magic, the city.

     Wylan had taken to always end up drawing Jesper somehow, once he finished the main piece he started on--if it wasn’t already Jesper himself. He found himself drawing his boyfriend’s perfect lips he never wished would leave his, and arms that wrapped around him perfectly at all the right times. He drew the curve of his neck as it met his shoulder, a place he loved to press kisses to, his back which he loved to watch as his muscles stretched in the early morning when he put his clothes on. He drew his hands as they carefully gripped his pistols’ pearl handles, or as one grasped Wylan’s own hand with all the love in his body, and his lanky, lanky legs that would tangle with Wylan’s while cuddling. Before he knew it, he would have a few pages filled with drawings of Jesper.

     He would scowl at himself, blushing when he realized he drew Jesper so much, not out of upsetness, but more due to the fact he knew Jesper would tease him, lovingly, when he saw the doodles. Jesper loved to see Wylan’s art, and he always had permission to go through Wylan’s sketchbooks or canvases. He would flip through the pages as if they were the most delicate thing in the world, and a grin would split across his face at the sight of countless doodles of him. He would set the sketchbook down in favor of cupping Wylan’s cheeks. Teasing words would come just as easy as the kisses that he pressed to his nose, forehead, cheekbones, and every freckle that he could see.

     The nights he spent drawing outside, Wylan would set his art supplies aside as his hand grew tired and his strokes lazy, and lie down in the grass. The untouched dew would soak his back and his hair, but the sensation didn’t bother him. He would cast his gaze to the sky and try to find constellations against the polluted sky. He had to squint, but he would eventually find some that he had seen on a star chart when he was younger.

     (Wylan had taken an interest in stars during a session with one of his tutors. He had always liked maps in general, the visuals and the numbers being enough to overcome the frustration of not being able to read the names of places. The star charts were particularly interesting to him, liking the way that math seemed to go hand in hand with astronomy. He found it interesting how you could calculate the positions of stars at specific times of the night during certain parts of the year. It was almost like a little challenge to him.

     He also liked how people often made drawings in the stars, the constellations that some maps were dedicated to. He poured over those for a few days, engrossed in it. His tutor seemed to pick up his interest in the night sky and took the time to teach him all the names of all the constellations on the charts they had. After that, he always loved to see how many he could point out before going to bed. It was a rare, happy memory he had, showing off the amount he could find to his mother and father. It was sort of nice to have that, now.)

     It was a few months after the auction and it was one of those restless nights. He snuck out of bed, long after Jesper had fallen asleep, and sat in the music room, playing his flute. He played until the melody that had been stuck in his head since Jesper closed his eyes that night solidified as a song with notes on paper. He slipped it in with his other sheet music, untitled, as he went into the garden. He grabbed his sketchbook on the way out the large glass doors that lead into his backyard and settled down amongst the grass. He drew Jesper until his fingers were sore and his cheeks were so red he was worried that they might never go back to normal.

     He set his sketchbook aside, carefully placing it upon one of the stones that made the nearby pathway so it wouldn’t get wet. He shifted on his back and picked out all the constellations he could see: the Big and Little Dippers, Lupus, the wolf, and, to his amusement, Corvus, the crow. He let out a sigh as he tried to map out an almost empty cup beneath it. If he squinted, he could.

     It was times like these when Wylan allowed himself to think the jumbled thoughts that had been building up the whole night, the whole day. He often tried to ignore his wandering thoughts in favor of focusing on his father's--no, his--business and all of the work that had to go into it. But in the hush of the night, under the weight of the stars and the gentle breeze, he could let himself think about things he tried to suppress throughout the day. It was like a weight off his chest that the night stole from him and kept for itself. Thinking about everything made it a lot less… stressful to deal with.

     His mind wandered to what happened after the auction. He allowed himself, briefly, to think about Matthias’s death and the solemn goodbye from the others before they left on the boat. Wylan hadn’t known Matthias long, no, but there was still something jarring about his death. He had learned to mostly trust him, and they sort of felt indestructible by that point in their heists. The fact that one of them died was a harsh reminder that they weren’t. No matter how hopeful you were, somehow fate had a grim plan in store for you. (Though, this never left Wylan undetermined to stay as positive as he could.)

\----☆----

     The goodbye to Nina, Kuwei, and Colm had been less than ideal, having to watch his friends pretend to be dead as they were sailed off to their different locations. It was so quick that Wylan felt as if that none of them got to say what they really wanted to each other. He definitely didn’t get a good enough goodbye with Nina, and he sort of wished that he could have said a proper goodbye to Jesper’s father, too. His brain still rattled with the idea that Colm seemed to approve of him and Jesper, still made him flustered.

     Wylan, Jesper, and Inej had gone back inside after that, Kaz having disappeared to take care of some other business he had to do, probably-- as usual. Wylan busied himself with a small house tour as he waited for a medik to come about his ribs. He showed Inej a room that he thought she would like, one as high as he could possibly find, with a nice window overlooking the other surrounding homes. She excused herself to sleep, but Wylan suspected she sat in the windowsill for a while, watching the city before actually going to bed. That was okay, though. It was none of his business.

     Wylan showed Jesper around the house with a bit of nervous energy in him. He hated this house, he hated every single room and every inch of them (besides the music room.) Each one seemed to carry a horrible memory with it that hit him as soon as he stepped foot into it. Seeing his room as a nursery shocked him in a way that made him want to be anywhere but that floor of the home. Jesper seemed to pick up on his discomfort and promised to help make it into anything but that. He held his hand the whole rest of the tour.

     Eventually, a medik had shown up at his doorstep, looking a little nervous with the plague sirens sounding in the background. He was quickly ushered inside by one of the servants of the house and told to wait in one of the sitting rooms. Wylan and Jesper were there in a heartbeat, both eager for Wylan’s wounds to be attended to. 

     Jesper had settled down on one of the armchairs as the medik got to work addressing Wylan’s wounds. There was a lot of wincing on Wylan’s part, but, a while later, he was mostly patched up. Everything still screamed with ache but at least his ribs didn’t feel like they were going to slowly kill him anymore. He thanked the medik for his time and showed him the way out himself instead of letting one of the household staff do it.

     Wylan had gone back into the sitting room where Jesper was as soon as the door was locked. He stopped in his tracks, in the middle of the carpet, at the (beautiful, beautiful) sight of Jesper. He was sitting, half sprawled out in the armchair, eyes closed, hands resting on his stomach. He looked calm, peaceful. He, also, looked like he was about to fall asleep, and Wylan couldn’t have that. He needed him awake.

     “Jes?” Wylan asked softly as he took another step closer to the boy.

     “Hm?”

     “Remember that down payment I mentioned?”

     Jesper seemed to wake up at that, stormy eyes blinking open and fixing their gaze on him. He stared for a moment before a grin spread over his face and  _ Ghezen _ , Wylan wanted to kiss him so bad. That stupid grin made his stomach flip a million times over and his heart rate pick up. He hated, see: loved, how flustered Jesper could make him with the simplest of gestures or lines. It was frustrating beyond belief, but he wouldn’t have it any other way.

     Jesper opened his mouth to retort and Wylan found himself moving to silence him. He quickly placed himself in Jesper’s lap, straddling his hips, unable to muster what it took to care about their position at the moment. All that mattered was Jesper and his lips and how they felt against his own as he closed the small space in between them. All that mattered was the comforting weight of Jesper’s arms around his waist as he slid his arms around Jesper’s neck, fingers of one hand splaying there. The kiss started out sweet, but quickly turned into one of happy relief and slight desperation, an  _ oh-thank-saints-we’re-both-still-alive _ kiss, and a  _ we-should-have-done-this-sooner _ kiss. They kissed until they both ran out of air, and then again, and again. He lost count of how many they shared. They were both tired and just happy to both be alive and together.

     At one point, breathless, both boys ended up just resting their foreheads together. Eyes closed, they took in just being there together. One of Jesper’s hands gently fluttered over Wylan’s hurt ribs, causing him to straighten just a little. It felt like a silent comment about how much he allowed them to do during their fake torture scene, and Wylan just pressed a feather-light kiss over his cheek.

     They stayed like that, foreheads touching, quiet and exhausted for a while. Then, Wylan broke the silence with a snort that dissolved into a burst of giggles. The laughter hurt his ribs and made him wince, but couldn’t help but laugh at the thought that caught in his head. Jesper had given him a confused look with a hint of a smile.

     “What’s so funny, merchling?” He asked, eyebrows raised.

     “Jesper-” Wylan took a deep breath- “Jesper  _ Llewendllyn  _ Fahey?”

     “Shut up,” Jesper groaned and shifted in a way that caused Wylan to end up sitting sideways in his lap. He did his best to look annoyed, but the kiss Wylan pressed to his jaw took care of that. Jesper could never stay mad at him for long, he knew that by now. “We should probably find someplace to sleep.”

     “Well, it’s going to be here, because I’m not moving,” Wylan muttered, resting his head on Jesper’s shoulder. He didn’t have the energy it took to get up and find a room to sleep in that wouldn’t make him want to run out of the house in the morning. His eyes were already closed, and he felt like he was losing the battle with consciousness that he never started in the first place. Jesper was a good enough pillow, right? 

     He swore he heard Jesper make some complaint, but he was already asleep by the time he said he wasn’t moving. He definitely heard Jesper’s complaints about how his limbs ached in the morning, though. (Wylan shut him up with waffles.)

     The next few days had been spent just… resting. Wylan, Jesper, and Inej all ate until they didn’t think they could ever eat again; then Jesper ate some more. Wylan went around talking to the members of the staff and telling them that he would be returning due to his father’s arrest. They all had various degrees of shock or happiness across their faces, sometimes both. He and Jesper went around the house to assess what they needed to do with it, what they could change about it to make it better and less… Jan Van Eck. It had been nice to plan that out with Jesper, it made Wylan feel more at peace with staying in his old, bad memory ridden home. It felt like it was going to be  _ his _ and not father’s. (Was it too early to say his and Jesper’s?) Though part of him worried his father would win the case and come back home, take everything back, but… hm. He could always give his defense poor funding. There was no way he could win a case this important with a bad lawyer.

     Living with Inej was interesting. He practically already did during the heist and the time before the auction, but their spaces had been smaller. The bigger house proved to be more challenging for him; Jesper didn’t seem affected. She was so quiet that when Wylan rounded a corner to go somewhere, she could already be there, and it made him jump. It didn’t take him too long to get used to, but she  _ did _ startle the daylights out of him a couple of times.

     She seemed to do things on her own, too, keeping out of the way of Wylan and Jesper. She spent time with them, of course, but she took care of her own business at her own times. Sometimes the two wouldn’t see her for a good part of the day, but she would always come back to dinner. They never had to worry about her.

     Wylan had the sneaking suspicion that both Jesper and Inej loved to be waited on.

     There was one problem that popped up the second night at the mansion, one easily fixable but embarrassing. The two boys had no idea what to do in terms of sleeping arrangements. They weren’t sure if they could share a bed yet or not. They awkwardly had retired to different, but nearby rooms.

     The room that Wylan had gone into was a spare, sure, but it somehow it still felt suffocating to him. He lied in bed and stared at the ceiling, the tired indifference of the previous night unable to come to him. His mind couldn’t tear itself away from the thought of being back home, what home was  _ like _ last time he was there. It made him think of all the bad things happening all over again and suddenly he couldn’t breathe. He seemed to remember every mocking remark his father made, every hit from his hand or object he had grabbed, every single time his father told him he was stupid or a disappointment or--

     He had gone into Jesper’s room before he had even realized what he was doing, shaking with tears in the corners of his eyes. Jesper hadn’t even fallen asleep yet, much to Wylan’s relief, and he was quick to get up and calm him down. Jesper gently brought him over to the bed and ran him through a couple breathing exercises to help him calm down, rubbing a slightly hesitant hand on his back. Wylan couldn’t help but focus on Jesper’s voice, to listen to it like it was the only thing in the world. It was one of the most soothing things that he had ever heard. His voice, his hands, tethered Wylan back to reality, and he suddenly felt like he could breathe again.

     It took him a couple more minutes to fully calm down, to get his breathing and shaking under control. In that time he had wrapped his arms tight around Jesper’s middle and buried his head in the crook of his neck. Jesper didn’t seem to mind, he just gently leaned back to lie down on the bed with Wylan nestled half on top of him. When he calmed, neither of them said anything, just stayed there in each others’ arms. The two fell asleep like that, cuddled together.

     Wylan didn’t go to sleep alone after that.

     About halfway through the first week, Wylan and Jesper tackled the issue of the Van Eck business. They sat on the floor of Wylan’s father’s office and went to town with all of the papers there. Jesper spent the entire day reading aloud to Wylan, the two chatting back and forth about how they should run things and what they should do about certain purchases and finances. Jesper agreed to work as Wylan’s secretary (“Is that all I am to you, Wylan?” He asked dramatically, trying to pretend to be offended, even hurt by the notion, one hand pressed against his forehead in a pose Wylan thought he had seen Nina in before. His eyes were alight with mirth and a smile crept onto his face, ruining his act) and help with the decision making process whenever Wylan needed help in that department. He promised he would attend every meeting with him and always cover for him in case he was asked to read anything.

     It was a load off Wylan’s shoulders, an anxiety that had started up in him the moment that it was revealed to him that he would inherit the business from his father when he went to prison. Jesper had told his father he could read to him, but it still worried Wylan. That conversation felt like bliss. He was so lucky to have Jesper with him.

     The same day, Jesper hesitantly brought up the idea of stocks. Wylan had understood right away what he was suggesting, but he wanted to hear it from him anyway. He went on to explain that maybe, with a tiny allowance, he could play the stock markets. It would, hopefully, in theory, keep him away from the gamblings halls down at the Barrel and keep him occupied. It would still have the same feel as gambling, almost, without as big of a risk. It would also be way more productive than gambling would ever be.

     Wylan was sold on it, for the most part, but he had one condition. Jesper had to agree to be trained by a Fabrikator so he could actually learn to use his powers. Wylan could easily find one for him and pay to have them come to the mansion if they didn’t want to trip across the ocean to find one. Jesper had been a bit reluctant at first, always hesitant about his abilities, but he eventually gave in and agreed to it. He had told Wylan that if he never missed a shot because of his magic, if he was already using it without fully realizing it, he might as well learn, right? Wylan had grinned and kissed Jesper before he could say anything else.

     They set to work after the initial day for looking over all the paperwork and reorganizing the office. Wylan hated being in there, but until they had time to redecorate everything, he would have to deal with it. He bought up things here and there, certain prices low due to the fear of the fake plague they had created. Jesper helped him, of course, reading everything out to him and helping with the signature aspect of it. (“It’s like drawing, almost. Don’t focus on the letters, just make them look loopy and fancy,” Jesper had explained to him. It worked, for the most part, and he had a passable attempt at a signature). Everything hadn’t been as bad as Wylan thought it would be, and having Jesper there always comforted him, making him feel like he could do anything if he tried.

     A week and a half passed and Jesper enlisted Inej’s help to redecorate the Van Eck mansion with him and Wylan. It was a group venture that took the entire day, and a good bit of the night, but they eventually redid a good part of the house. They had ordered some new furniture and paints for certain rooms, redoing Wylan’s old room, the office, his father’s room, and a handful of others. They made the house more them, more lively than it was in the dark days that he used to live there. It calmed his nerves, just slightly, about his father being around any corner. This was his home now. He was okay.

     Wylan’s old room didn’t remain his, it was made into another spare. It felt too weird to him, moving back into a room that was used to try to get rid of him so desperately. They took up moving into the master bedroom and redid that one to make theirs instead. It was the last room they did, which Inej politely did not partake in, and they made it  _ theirs _ . No trace of Wylan’s father was left in that room when they were done and it felt so freeing. The room felt like the safest thing in the world. Nothing could touch them here. It was like their safe little pocket away from the world.

     Kaz would tell him that was dangerous thinking.

     Wylan and Jesper flopped down on the bed when they finished getting their room to how they liked it, lying on their backs. They both stayed quiet, tired from spending the entire day working on parts of the house that they could, and figuring out what else they would need to do another time. Wylan shifted his gaze to watch Jesper a moment and propped himself up on his elbow. He loved just… watching Jesper. He always looked so breathtaking. He wanted to paint him for hours and hours and hours.

     Jesper caught his gaze, grinned, and winked at him. It caused Wylan’s cheeks to flush a little, but he ignored it in favor of leaning over and pecking his lips. They shared a sweet kiss before Wylan interrupted it with a yawn, causing the two of them to laugh and declare that it was time to go to bed.

\----☆----

     Wylan was pulled out of his thoughts as something in the corner of his eye caught his attention. One of the upstairs lights turned on, curtain opening. He let out a light hum at the sight, recognizing it as his mother looking out on the city of Ketterdam. Sometimes she would wake up in the middle of the night and look out the window to remind herself where she was, that she wasn’t in the hospital anymore. Wylan had made sure to give her a room with a beautiful view and whatever curtains (and furniture) she wanted. After a minute, the curtains were drawn again and the light turned off; she was going back to sleep. He shifted his gaze back to the sky.

\----☆----

     It had been about two weeks after the auction that Wylan said that he wanted to bring his mother home. It had been a Saturday night and he and Jesper were lying on their sides, facing each other, settled in a comfortable silence they learned they could have on occasion. (It could never be too silent for too long with Jesper’s energy, but that was okay.) Their hands were clasped together between them, fingers intertwined, resting after a long day of dealing with business. It was one of the more boring days, and, really, the two of them were both just happy to get to lie down and not look at documents and numbers for a bit.

     Though, Wylan couldn’t stop thinking. It had been two weeks,  _ two weeks _ since the auction and his mother was still in the hospital. He was going to wait until they were settled enough to bring her home, and now that they were, he was sort of itching to do it. Part of him was nervous, nervous that she wouldn’t recognize him or that she wouldn’t want to come back home with them, but that was all overridden by the immeasurable want of his mom back in his life. He wanted to hug her until he made up for all the years he was forced to live without her. He wanted to tell her everything that had happened since she left, how his father was paying for everything he had ever done.

     “I want to bring my mother home,” he said suddenly, breaking the silence. “Tomorrow.”

     A grin spread across Jesper’s face and he squeezed his hand. “Tomorrow it is.”

     The morning was rough and full of one thousand anxieties fluttering around in Wylan’s stomach and chest. He barely ate anything for breakfast and he fidgeted with anything that his hands came in contact with. Jesper had to hold his hand and explain to Inej why they shouldn’t be completely worried about these things, that Wylan was just nervous about finally bringing his mother home that day. Inej immediately seemed to understand and gave Wylan a reassuring smile as well as telling them she would be busy with something the entire day--a lie, an excuse so that she wouldn’t intrude on the family reunion.

     She got up to leave, having finished her breakfast. But, before she walked out of the room, she glanced at the two of them. “You should probably tell the staff before you bring her home,” she told them and raised an eyebrow when they stared back at her, confused. “You know, just in case they were led to believe she died, too.”

     Wylan had made a small noise before muttering an, “oh.” He didn’t think about that. They were probably told she died just like he was. He didn’t want to spring that on any of them. It hadn’t been fun to learn that way. So, after breakfast and once he and Jesper had gotten into better clothing to go out in, he collected everyone in the sitting room and just… told them. He wasn’t exactly sure how to put it gently, so he just said it. He told them that his father went to such lengths to erase him and his mother from the world, that he locked her away in a hospital, far from everyone she knew, and told the world that she died. (Terrible truths over kind lies. Kaz would say that, right?) He decided to spare the details about how he came across it. They didn’t need to know who had figured it out for him.

     The reactions were pretty much what he expected it to be. They were all just as shocked as they were when he explained that his father was being arrested for everything that transpired that day at the auction. Some looked angry and even cursed Van Eck, others seemed like they were going to cry from both joy that she was okay and sorrow for what had happened to her. A murmur went through them and they all nodded. They seemed determined to make Marya’s return a good one. One of the maids almost shooed Wylan and Jesper out of the house to go get her.

     Soon enough, the two were on a boat to the hospital to go retrieve Marya Hendriks from the prison she had been put in. The boat ride was as calm and quiet as the last one was, but Wylan couldn’t help but be nervous about everything and anything he could be nervous about. He thought about every possible thing that could go wrong, things he already spent a lot of time worrying about, and a handful of new ones he thought of since they got on the boat. The thoughts made him restless and fidgety still, and suddenly the  _ kruge _ he brought to pay the hospital felt like a thousand rocks in his pocket.

     Jesper, of course, picked up on his nervous energy and silently grounded him. He held his hand the entire time to the hospital, even when they got off the boat and walked toward the hospital. (They weren’t going to risk getting a ride again.) It felt like an anchor that kept Wylan from drifting away into a sea full of fears and worries. He could do this, it would be okay. He had Jesper with him. Everything would be fine. Breathe.

     He calmed down, mostly, the fresh air and Jesper’s reassurance helping him soothe his nerves. Though, as soon as the hospital was in sight, the worries seemed to ignite and take life again. They played over and over again in his head and he fought to keep his breathing steady and tried to calm his thoughts, but it only half-worked.

     “Wy, you’re crushing my hand,” Jesper said softly, stopping in the road to face him. “Everything’s going to be fine. Breathe.”

     Oh. Oops, Wylan hadn’t realized that he had been squeezing Jesper’s hand tighter and tighter with every worried thought that passed through his head. He loosened his grip with a bit of a sheepish smile on his face. He listened to him and took a deep breath, allowing himself just a moment to get his breathing under control. Everything was going to be fine.

     “Sorry.”

     “Don’t apologize. Let’s go rescue your mom.”

     And they did. Wylan somehow managed to not immediately die when they walked into Saint Hilde, but he felt like he couldn’t speak. Jesper saved him by doing all the talking, explaining that he was with Jan Van Eck’s son and that they were going to be bringing Marya back home. The nurse they talked to before seemed thoroughly confused, recognizing him as the boy from the paintings, but she complied when the correct amount of money was handed over. She called in another nurse to show the boys to Marya while she went to go deal with the paperwork and other things that they would need to do to release her.

     The other nurse lead them back to where Wylan’s mother was, and Wylan was sure he was going to start crying any second now. She was right where she was the last time they visited, in front of a painting she was working on, focused. He could see that it was another painting of him when he was eight, and he had to bite his lip to keep himself from crying already. Those paintings meant so much all at once, and when he had first seen them, it hit him as if he smacked into a brick wall.

     “Miss Hendriks?” The nurse spoke up. “You have some people here to see you.”

     Marya opened her mouth to ask who as she turned her gaze from her painting to the people in her room, but her words fell short when her eyes landed on Wylan. She didn’t react at first, almost studying him, assessing if he was real or not. There was no doubt that she recognized him, and it made his chest ache.

     “Wylan?” She asked, voice quiet and soft.

_      That _ was when he started to cry. He surged forward to hug her, her arms open and waiting for him. He hugged her like it was the last thing keeping him on the planet. She hugged him back just as tight, just as emotional, a mother finally reunited with her son. They both seemingly wanted to make up for lost time, hugging for what felt like hours, years, but suddenly didn’t seem long enough when they pulled away. He wanted to never let go in fear that he would lose her again. He wasn’t sure what he would do if that happened.

     She cupped his cheek, paintbrush still between her fingers of her other hand. She wiped Wylan’s tears away with her thumb, her own slipping down her cheeks silently. Her smile, however, had no trace of sadness in it and was every bit happy, relieved, overjoyed that her son was returned to her.

     Wylan did his best to gently explain in the broadest ways possible that his father was arrested for crimes against the council, against Ghezen, and that he was going to be locked away for the rest of his life. He explained that he inherited the business even though, yes, he still couldn’t read. That was when he introduced Jesper, telling her that he was going to be living with him and helping the two of them with everything. (He wouldn’t forget the slightly pleased look on her face when he talked about Jesper, as if she was connecting some dots he hadn’t said aloud.)

     The next couple of hours went by as a blur. They went through the necessary paperwork and helped pack her things. They made the walk back to the boat where Wylan, Marya, and Jesper talked the entire time. The boat trip was less chatty, and Marya opted to stand by the edge and watch the scenery pass. Wylan and Jesper stood together nearby, having a hushed conversation, Jesper assuring Wylan that it was very much real and that they were bringing his mom back home.

     They got back to the mansion and Marya seemed to have a bit of a harder time there. Wylan couldn’t blame her. He and Jesper did their best to help her inside and assure her that everything was okay, various staff members aiding as well. Wylan could tell that the house being redecorated helped, that at least not everything screamed Jan Van Eck anymore. It eased her a little, but she still seemed tense.

     They had a great lunch during which they talked with each other and sometimes the other staff members when they wanted to chime something in. They took her to the gardens and showed her all of the places she could paint. It wasn’t until the evening that they seemed to lose her, that she slipped back into a sort of foggy state where she didn’t quite recognize where she was or who she was with. Jesper seemed to jump in perfect at that moment and took care of bringing her up to her room and showing her where she would stay. She gladly took the room and, shortly, went to sleep.

     Wylan and Jesper hung around after that, killing the time before dinner with a bit of paperwork. Then, after food, the night was filled with kisses and light conversation. Inej had come back for dinner and asked how it went, and they were happy to give her the good report of how the day went. She seemed happy for Wylan, glad that his mother was okay and that they were reunited. He didn’t miss the look of longing on her face, though.

     At one point they made it back to their room. Earlier, Jesper had pulled a random book off a shelf in the office, just because it seemed interesting. He read it aloud, a habit they had started one night that Wylan couldn’t seem to quite fall asleep. Jesper rested on his back with Wylan curled into his side, eyes closed as he listened to the sound of Jesper’s voice. He lost track of the words and the plot as his mind wandered off to recount the busy day they had. Thinking back to the boat rides, he realized that he hadn’t thought about the time his father tried to have him killed at all on the trip there or back. It was progress, he guessed, some semblance of a recovery.

     The only flaw was that now he was thinking about it. He hated how in detail he could recall what happened, how excited he was to go to a music school, the exact moment when he realized, as his windpipe was being crushed, that he wasn’t going to make it there. He remembered how cold the water was when he swam back to shore, and how exhausted his limbs were by the time he was done. He remembered how his throat was bruised for a while afterward, a hideous mark on him that wouldn’t let him forget anything that had happened.

     He, then, oddly, thought back to Kaz. He thought back to when he told Kaz he couldn’t read, and how nice it felt to get it out in the open. He thought back to when he told Genya he couldn’t read when she was tailoring his face back to normal. It felt nice to tell them, like it was a weight off his chest. It made him feel lighter. Maybe it could work with this, too?

     “My father tried to have me killed,” Wylan blurted out, and immediately regretted not leading up to it.

     Jesper sat up quickly at Wylan's words, a look of confusion crossing his face, which was quickly replaced by one of shock and anger. "And you're not talking about what happened after the Ice Court,” he said slowly.

     “No, I’m not,” he answered simply as he moved to sit upright himself. He hesitated a moment, but he told Jesper everything. He recounted everything that happened from the second that his father told him he was going to a music school, to when he met Jesper, then about the letters. He didn’t leave any detail out, no matter how small, because each secret spoken out loud made something in his chest feel better. Every word made him feel like he could breathe easier, even though he didn’t know he had a hard time breathing in the first place. He had never talked about it in detail before, just a mention to Kaz, and it felt so freeing to say something.

     When he was done, Wylan wasn’t sure he had ever seen Jesper that angry. The only time he looked like that was when he thought he died on the ship, crushed into a million pieces like the boat itself. It was sort of a scary look on him, and Wylan didn’t like that he was so upset in the first place. He wanted nothing more than to just smooth out the rough edges of his angry look again and squeeze his hands and tell him he’s okay now.

     “I’m going to shoot that bastard,” Jesper said with a calm anger in his voice that made Wylan want to shudder. “I’m going to put so many bullets in him that they’ll be pulling them out of his body for days.”

     Wylan took a deep breath and scooted closer so he could rest his hands on Jesper’s chest and look him in the eye. “Jes, my father is going to rot in prison.” (He was also trying to convince himself.)

     Jesper seemed to calm down at this, content with the idea of Jan Van Eck rotting away in a prison cell for the rest of his days. Wylan was just glad that he didn’t seem so angry anymore. He still looked upset on behalf of him, and Wylan had a feeling that he had a hard time processing how someone could be such a bad father. Colm, with his flaws, was still a great dad. He would never dream of doing anything like this. He wasn’t sure any of the other four could truly fathom it either.

     Jesper’s face completely softened when Wylan lifted a hand to cup his cheeks, and they shared a soft, sweet kiss. Wylan was okay. He was alive, he was breathing, his father was in jail and could never hurt him again. They were together, and they were going to be okay.

     After that, Jesper had wrapped his arms tight around Wylan in a cuddle that he didn’t release him from until they absolutely  _ had _ to take care of some business.

     Wylan heard a ship’s horn sound in the harbor and it threw him into thoughts about Inej. She had left about three weeks after Wylan helped Kaz buy her a ship she could use. He had been excited to help Kaz find her one that would suit her, wanting to help make her dream a reality. He found, what he believed, she would like a lot, and easily gave Kaz a good deal on it. She had been happy when Kaz had shown it to her, and Wylan wasn’t spared from a hug when she visited him in the mansion.

     She stayed, just a little, since Kaz brought her parents. She left as soon as she could, though, and there was a very emotional goodbye before she set sail. Wylan wasn’t sure that Jesper was ever going to release her from a hug, almost having to pull him away from it. Kaz seemed as distant as usual, but he and Inej seemed to have a wordless conversation when he stood up to say bye. There was no hugging between them, but Wylan was sure that the look they exchanged meant a lot more than that.

     Before she left, she promised to write to them.

\----☆----

     The next few months passed and everything felt like it was getting back to a sense of normalcy. He and Jesper balanced out free time with business, going on a few official dates here and there. The first one had been amusing since they had gotten together under some of the most unconventional circumstances. The next ones were great, though, and they eventually designated a day to be a date night. Sometimes they went out for dinner, other times they stayed home and Jesper read any book he wanted to him.

     Jesper attended every gathering and party with Wylan that they were either invited to, or ones that they hosted. Jesper seemed to thrive with them, love the commotion and the activity of them. It was at a party that Jesper had introduced himself as Wylan’s boyfriend. It had startled Wylan a bit when it happened, but he couldn’t be happier about it. He had been dancing around calling him that, unsure if he could, but it was a new kind of music to his ears.  _ Boyfriend. Wylan’s boyfriend. Perfect, perfect, perfect. _

     One of his favorite parties was one of those hosted by them. It was toward the end of the night and most of the guests were chatting amongst themselves now. Wylan and Jesper used this opportunity to slip into the music room, a breath of fresh air when it came to privacy. Wylan had sat down at the piano and begun to play some upbeat melody that he would play at parties. Jesper, with the biggest, most beautiful, smile on his face, leaned against the piano to listen. He was wearing a gold-colored waistcoat that Wylan almost had to force him into instead of one of his lime green ones, and it was probably the best decision he ever made. Jesper looked wonderful in it, almost like the sun itself was standing at the end of the piano. (He had helped him out of it later, once all the guests were gone and they were alone.)

     Things with his mother were slow, but there was progress nonetheless. It took her a while to get used to things at first, her remembering things in bursts and losing them seconds later. Wylan was grateful that Jesper was there with him to help. Jesper was  _ amazing _ with her, too. He spent time with her when Wylan had to go do something, talked with her, showed her tricks with his powers or cards, or charmed her. Wylan could tell that she loved him, and it reassured him to think about that.

     She had been a lot better, too, recently. She wasn’t as foggy as she was at certain times of the day, usually in the mornings and evenings. She seemed to be remembering things for longer, or not losing them at all. She didn’t seem as scared anymore, of being in the house, of her ex-husband being there to lock her away. She didn’t have as many nightmares anymore. Marya seemed… happy, truly happy when she spent time with Wylan, and it made him want to cry. She was getting better, and one day they would be completely okay again.

     It had been about a month before they got a letter from Inej, and Jesper had excitedly read it aloud to Wylan. She said she had written to Kaz as well, and if they knew where Nina was, to tell her so she could send one to her. She talked about how she was learning to sail and everywhere she had gone since she left them. She said that she wasn’t quite hunting slavers yet because she was still getting used to sailing, but she was planning on making a move soon. She asked about how they were doing with the business, and how Wylan’s mother was doing, and told them where they could write back to her.

     Jesper had eagerly written back to her for the both of them, with Wylan leaning against his shoulder to tell him some things to add. They sent it off as soon as they could and waited for her to write back. They continued to exchange letters back and forth, having sent out the last one to her just a week ago. Last they heard she had taken over a slave ship full of girls bound to pleasure houses.

     Another person that they exchanged letters with was Nina. She had sent one to them not long after they received the first one from Inej, telling them about her arrival in Fjerda. She told them about the burial she had for Matthias and her plans for, well, changing the world. She asked, too, about how they and everyone else were doing. She asked if anything interesting had happened since they left and, boy, did they have an answer for her.

     They were still waiting for a response from their last letter; they were expecting it any day now. They were excited to know how she was going to change the world.

     (They hadn’t heard at all from Kuwei yet, but Wylan had to admit that he wasn’t all that upset about it. He would be happy if he never had to hear from him again.)

     Wylan sat up from his spot in the grass, stretching his arms over his head as he realized that he was going to fall asleep there if he didn’t get up soon. He let himself sit there a moment longer and watch as the water passed in the canal that backed the garden, the breeze lightly ruffling some of the leaves on plants and bushes.

     A lot had happened to him, had happened to all of them, and a lot was still  _ going _ to happen to them. There was still a business to run that occupied a lot of their time. They had a trip to plan to visit Colm, since Jesper had promised they would. There was still a Grisha tutor to find and bring over. There were still small jobs here and there to do for Kaz, neither Wylan or Jesper truly wanting to let all of that go. Kaz had a gang to run, Inej had slavers to capture, Nina had a world to make a little more peaceful. There were still so many things that they had left to do because the world continued to spin, even after life dragged you underwater without letting you take a deep breath first.

     Everything had been hard, but they survived it. They survived breaking into the  _ Ice Court _ , of all places. Wylan was sure if they could do that, he could handle a stressful business meeting in the next couple of days that he was dreading. It seemed as easy as counting to five when you compared it to what they went through then. Businessmen weren’t as scary as an army of Fjerdans.

     They were okay. They were going to be okay, no matter what life threw at them next. They could handle it.

     Wylan let out a sigh as he stood up, collecting his sketchbook and pencils as he went, and straightened out his now disheveled pajamas. He hummed the song he had written under his breath as made his way back to the house, tired and ready to get back into bed with his boyfriend. Exhaustion clung to his limbs now and he wondered, for just a moment, if he was going to be able to make it back to bed or not. (Though, Jesper’s warmth and arms were always a motivation to come back to bed.)

     At the door, he spared one last glance at the stars in the sky, spotting Corvus. A small smile spread across his face as he headed back inside his home.

**Author's Note:**

> if u enjoyed this leave a kudos/a comment! i would be rlly appriciated!!  
> also feel free to hmu on tumblr @ krebstar if u wanna pester me about soc and wesper tbh id love that


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